You know the scene-big party in a loft, lots of attractive singles milling around, old fridge stuffed with liter bottles of seltzer and there, in the middle of the room, is the trash can filled with ice water and cold beer. Beneath the surface lie unseen bottles and cans, scattered like debris around the Titanic. One hardy soul, the Jacques Cousteau of beer, dives over and over again, seeking just one thing: the familiar green bottle that signifies Heineken. That his forearm ends up blue is a small price to pay. It's all about the beer, right? Very funny, and (to borrow an expression) true, true.